Reunion
by leiasky
Summary: Aragorn’s reign has ended but he will not be parted from Arwen forever. COMPLETE


Title:   "Reunion"

Synopsis:  The Race of Men, when they die, go to the Halls of Mandos.  Aragorn's reign has ended and he has traveled to the Halls of his forefathers.

Rating: PG 

Spoilers: Takes place after _Return of the King._

Pairing: Aragorn / Arwen.

Disclaimer: I'm not Tolkien. I don't own these characters. (darn!) I make no money. Done for fun.

Additional Info: 

Other stories can be found here: http://www.geocities.com/maegovannen/lotrfanfic.html

Archive: If you like, just tell me where.

Reunion Part I 

_"Anirach, nui lu, gwannad uin gwaith lin?"_

He blinked, hearing her voice as if she were standing beside him. He opened his mouth to answer but a blinding light flashed, shrouding him in a veil of thick, white mist. The light faded into a horizon of swirling mist and shown dimly, nearly further than his eyes could see. He reached out with an unsteady hand, thinking that perhaps his eyes deceived him. He squinted, unable to see no further than his hand and as he walked, the space behind him disappeared into the mists.

"Arwen?" He called and then stopped and stared at his outstretched hand. No longer was the skin stretched tightly over old bones. His mouth fell open and he cautiously brought the hand to his face. Years had passed since Aragorn had felt such smooth skin – his own, and his hand trembled now as he lifted the hair that hung beside his face. No longer was it silver. It was as black as night, an incredible contrast to the thick, white mist that surrounded him now.

"Arwen," He whispered, the desolate realization of where he was struck like a knife through his heart. He bowed his head and allowed a small sob to escape his lips. Arwen was not here. Arwen would never again stand beside him. The doom of men had fallen, and taken away the most precious thing in his life. 

"Come to us," he heard a voice whisper in his mind.

"It is time to greet your ancestors." Came another.

"Follow the light."

When Aragorn looked up again, the light ahead of him seemed to grow, pulse like a heartbeat as he took another hesitant step. He walked slowly, still hesitant until a familiar face appeared in the mists. A face he had not seen in a very long time. Aragorn swallowed nervously and whispered her name.

"_Naneth_?"

The woman's eyes sparkled and she opened her arms. Long had it been since she held her son, now grown and far taller, like his ancestors, than was she.

When Aragorn reached her he fell to his knees and embraced the woman who had given him life. 

Gilraen embraced her son and salty tears dripped down her cheeks to evaporate in his hair. She closed her eyes and held him, the boy who, at the age of two, had inherited more responsibility than should anyone his age.

"I've watched you, my son." When they parted, Gilraen stared down at the son she'd lost to destiny. "Always. I've never been so proud. You've become everything I'd hoped and dreamed. Everything and more."

Aragorn choked out her last words to him, reminded of the despair he had felt at their parting. "_Onen i-Estel Edain, u chebin estel amin_**."**

Gilraen smiled softly and brushed a lock of hair away from his eyes, as she had done when he was a child. "Well worth my sacrifice, Estel."

Aragorn smiled sadly and for the first time noticed a taller, dark-haired man standing behind his mother, watching the exchange between mother and son with a thoughtful gaze.

As Aragorn stood, Gilraen stepped to the side and with a push of her hand urged her son to step closer to the unfamiliar, yet familiar, man.

"Ada?" 

Arathorn smiled at his son and reached out to embrace the man who his little boy had grown to become. "It's been a long time, my son." 

"I didn't know." Aragorn began but was silenced by his mother's hand sliding around his arm. "This place-"

"It is not for the living to know, my son," Gilraen smiled sadly at her son, knowing that he would soon realize, if he did not already, that one half of his soul was missing. 

"This is no doom, it is a release, a well deserved release from the mortal world. Here  there are no cares, no fears." Arathorn clasped his son on the shoulder. "You've done well, my son. Better than anyone could have foreseen."

"A release?" Aragorn drawled, testing the word to see if it could roll any easier off his tongue. "Then why is it that I only feel despair covered by momentary elation?" Aragorn's gaze dropped and Arathorn clasped Gilraen's hand tenderly, knowing the source of their son's sadness.

"When she joins you, you will be whole again." Gilraen answered as her son quickly lifted his head to stare uncertainly at his mother. The woman chuckled and reached up to brush her fingers across his cheek. "You aim high, my son."

"High indeed to take the daughter of Elrond to wife." Arathorn smiled at his son and when the younger man moved to answer, silenced him with a raise of his hand. "You need not prove your worth to me, King Elessar. You succeeded where the rest of our line failed. You restored two once great and mighty kingdoms under one rule and you united the blood of our ancestors with the birth of your children."

Aragorn's face fell as he thought of those his death had left behind. His son. His daughters. He could recall their sadness, their tears as they said their final farewells to their dying father. Despair began to creep into his heart, thinking of his family, now alone without him to guide them. 

"Eldarion will rule wisely," Arathorn smiled at his son. "Worry not for him. You left behind a legacy that will endure until the end of the world."

"And when that end comes, my son," Gilraen began, hoping to ease the pain of Aragorn's despair. "We will all be united together again. Elves and Men, Dwarves and Hobbits."

Aragorn glanced down, thinking of Arwen, craving her simple touch once more. Wishing for just one more chance to hear her sweet laughter, feel her gentle lips. "Someday." He muttered sadly.

"Some day soon," Gilraen turned her son around and they watched through the mists as a cloaked figure walked slowly through the barren trees of Lothlorien.

Aragorn's heart quivered and his breath hitched in his chest at the sight of his beloved Arwen, her immortal life waning, fading like the elven woods in which she now walked. He watched sadly, the despair etched into her face, the eyes red with dried tears that would no longer flow. Aragorn fought the tears that welled in his eyes as the sight of such despair. Despair he had caused by his death. They watched as Arwen knelt on the hill on which they'd pledged themselves to one another with a vow that would only be realized decades later. 

Tears dripped from his eyes as she lay down upon the hill and stared up at the evening sky. He reached toward the image and disturbed the mists, sobbing as the image disappeared from view. "Arwen….no…." He sobbed.

"Go to her," Gilraen said as she stepped away from her son. 

The mists surrounding them thickened until Aragorn could no longer see them. He was alone once again.

"Catch her when she falls, my son." He heard his mother's voice, somewhere in the mists, "We will be waiting."

He felt Arwen's heart stop and, in his minds eye, he saw her body fade from Middle-Earth. He reached toward the mound with a pained gasp, not quite understanding. He could only see Arwen Undomiel's final resting place in that world, the first place she had met her mortal King. 

Part II 

She gasped, almost as if for air, as the white mist surrounded her body. Her eyes were wide, frightened, as she had not thought past the moment the doom of men claimed her life. She closed her eyes, fighting the loneliness that overwhelmed her mind. She was only one of three in the history of the Eldar who had bound themselves to the Edain. Where, then, would their bodies go when their despair over lost love claimed their lives? Arwen was afraid, truly afraid. She was now well and truly alone as her father claimed would happen at the end of days.

"You are home." A familiar voice said.

When she opened her eyes, there he was, an image, indeed, of the splendor of the Kings of Old. She thought him a dream, until he leaned over her and pulled her into his strong arms. Tears fell from her eyes in huge round drops as she wrapped her arms around his neck and embraced him desperately.

"Estel?" She whispered, squeezing shut her eyes for fear he was a dream that would vanish if she but looked on him.

"I'm here."

She could feel his breath against her hair, his hands tremble as they held her.

"I'm real."

"How? Where?" Arwen opened her eyes and her breath caught when she gazed at him. She twined an uncertain finger into his hair and stared at it for a long moment. No longer was it silver, nor black with streaks of silver as she had come to see during their life together. It was pure black again, and his face was as smooth as they day she'd met him. In his eyes was the knowledge of his long years, even as his body looked no different than the day they'd first met.

He stood with her in his arms, eyes bright and wet with his own tears. "I don't know. Time has passed so quickly – it is non-existent here."

His voice was music to her ears and she sobbed. "Speak to me. Always. I never want to hear the heartbreaking silence again."

"Never again, indonya." Aragorn smoothed her hair and slid a finger beneath her chin.

When their eyes met, the mist in which they were standing cleared, and they were standing in a large hall – the hall of his-their- ancestors. They did not see the people surrounding them, smiling, eyes wide with joy at their reunion. Their gaze was solely for one another, and when their lips met in a kiss to tear apart – or join – kingdoms, it was a man watching the midnight sky, from the great White Tower of the Reunited Kingdom, who smiled and raised his hand in the ancient elven gesture of farewell. A tear crept down Eldarion's cheek as the star streaked across the sky to disappear into the Sea. It was then he knew, with no doubt, that his parents had been reunited, and one day, he would see them again.

But not yet.

Not yet.

FIN

Elvish translations:

"Do you wish, before the time, to leave your people?"

"Mother?"

"I gave hope to the Dunedain, I have kept no hope for myself"

"my heart"


End file.
